


The Moonlight Overthrew You

by words_reign_here



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-23
Updated: 2014-09-23
Packaged: 2018-02-18 13:35:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2350247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/words_reign_here/pseuds/words_reign_here
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Another request for a song pairing and Destiel. <br/>I paired Jeff Buckley's Everybody Here Wants You and Hallelujah.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Moonlight Overthrew You

Dean loved the slick feeling of new paint on his favorite brush. The thick feeling of the paint on canvas, brushing away the white carelessly. He worked barefoot, the tiles cool and grounding beneath him.

It was eleven in the morning and he had been working since about eight when his phone rang. He wiped his hand on his shirt and picked his phone up.

"Hi Charlie." He said carelessly, reaching for the ultramarine on his shelf.

"Drinks. Tonight. Jo’s birthday. Say you’ll be there." Charlie said in a hurry.

"Of course. I wouldn’t be anywhere else." Dean replied easily.

"Ok, I’ve gotta run. Lilith is being a horrendous bitch today and I didn’t get her coffee right."

"Come be my personal assistant, Charlie." Dean said.

There was a pause, a consideration that Dean hadn’t heard since he had first tried to steal her from her current boss.

"We’ll talk tonight, Winchester."

"Bye Charlie." Dean said and tossed his phone over on the couch, undoubtedly smearing paint everywhere.

Oh well. Wouldn’t be the first time.

~

Dean dressed himself in a gray shirt and a gray and white tie, styled his hair and headed out a little after ten.

On his way out, the phone rang in his jacket.

"Do you want to share a cab? Also, we are meeting at Jo’s. Plans changed." Ruby said.

"Yeah, I’ll come to you." Dean said.

"Is Sam going to be there?" She asked.

"As far as I know. Doll yourself up, Ruby." Dean pressed the 7 button on the elevator. "I’ll be there in a few minutes."

He waited for the elevator and rode it down to Ruby’s where he let himself in and poured a drink while he waited. His phone rang once more.

"You going tonight?" Sam asked.

"On my way out."

"Is Ruby going to be there?" He asked.

"As far as I know." Dean hedged.

"Great. Shit. What should I wear?"

Ruby stepped out just then, in loose red pants and a tight backless top.

"Wear the black pants, black button up and red tie."

"Isn’t that a bit much?"

"Nah, man. Trust me." Dean said.

"All right. See you there."

Dean hung up and frowned at the black heels Ruby had on. “Don’t you have red heels?” He asked.

"Isn’t that a bit much?"

"Trust me."

While Ruby changed her shoes and grabbed her purse, Dean finished his drink. They left her place and waited inside while the doorman hailed a cab for them. Once he got one, Dean let Ruby slide in first, gave the doorman the address and sat back.

"How’s the new painting going?" She asked, tucking a dark curl behind her ear.

"Pretty good. Made some nice progress today. How’s the curating going?"

Ruby shrugged, “As well as could be expected. I hear Jo is inviting people that are outside of our dark inner circle.”

"That right? I’m intrigued." Dean said.

"Maybe we can find you a nice girlfriend or boyfriend."

Dean snorted. “The day we can find someone who can put up with my, uh, eccentricities is going to be the day hell freezes over.”

"That’s your problem Dean. You don’t have any faith."

Dean rolled his eyes.

~

The party was the usual Harvelle bash. The alcohol flowed freely and the food was plentiful. Benny was there and wrapped him up in a tight hug. They discussed Dean’s latest gallery opening and Benny’s newest book. Benny drifted away after awhile and Sam was suddenly by his side.

"You came here with Ruby." He accused.

"I said as far as I knew she was coming." Dean said, sipping the whiskey from his glass.

"You were standing in her living room waiting for her while you were talking to me again, weren’t you?"

"Sammy, you’re my baby brother and I love you, but goddamn, you need to learn to ask the right questions."

"As a lawyer, I hate people like you."

"Look, she’s over there talking to Brady. Go rescue her."

Sam glared at Dean but walked away.

Jo snuck up behind Dean and wrapped her arms around his waist. He squeezed her arms. “Well, if it isn’t the most beautiful birthday girl ever.” Dean said.

"You have said the same thing since I was four."

"Damn, I was a smooth nine year old." Dean mused. He pulled Jo around and spun her in a circle, her dress flaring out around her knees as he did so. When she stopped, he had a wide, flat wooden box in his hand.

"Dean." She chided. "I have everything I want."

"But not this." He said. It was a leather bracelet embedded with a silver charm. "It's a protection symbol. Eye of Horus."

"It’s beautiful." She whispered. He planted a kiss on her forehead and she smiled.

"Charlie is here. She says you guys have business to talk. Mom's office is open."

"Maybe I can finally steal her away from Lilith."

"I hope so. She is a horrendous bitch."

Dean hummed his agreement and saw Charlie across the room. He gestured to the stairs and raised his eyebrows. She nodded, said a few words to the people around her and began to cross the room.

At the stairs, Dean watched a dark haired man enter the house. He shrugged off his jacket and the girl at the front took it and handed him a ticket. He smiled at her and said something and the girl laughed. Dean sipped the whiskey in his hand and watched the guy say something to the tall, wiry blonde guy with him and the guy nodded. The music was low and unobtrusive and Dean had to remind himself that he was not on the set of one of Jo's movies. The man met Dean's eyes and he was startled at the blue of his eyes. Dean tried to match it to the paints he had at home but came up with nothing.

"He's outside our little circle." Charlie said, standing on a step so that she was the same height as Dean and could speak in his ear. "His friend there, Balthazar, is a collector of rare and fine arts."

"That so?" Dean said.

"Mmm." Charlie took a drink of champagne in her hand. "He was one of many that asked for your Three Aspects."

"Ah." Dean said.

Dean was well known and well respected in his art community. His paintings were some of the top draws internationally. Dean was incredibly and filthy rich. His circle of friends included movie stars (Jo), well connected assistants (Charlie), art curators (Ruby) and authors (Victor and Benny). His brother ran a successful firm and his adopted mother and father were the heads of one of the few hedge funds that had survived the recent economic downturn. But what set Dean apart from any other painter was his Three Aspects of David. It showed King David in triptych panels, each panel containing one of the aspects of David as he was known from the Bible: musician, warrior, poet.

The bidding had been off the charts. Dean's other paintings had been snatched up faster than the poor interns could display them. But the Three Aspects was and still remained not for sale. This was the ace up Dean's sleeve, his just in case for horrendous circumstances, his back up plan, and was already willed to Sam.

Balthazar spotted Dean, nodded and raised his own glass to him. Dean returned the gesture and the blue eyed man caught Dean's eye.

"His name is Castiel." Charlie murmured.

“He’s beautiful.” Dean said softly.

Charlie laughed at him gently. “Down boy. We need to talk terms and conditions before you go off and leave us all here high and dry.”

Dean gestured to the top of the stairs and followed Charlie up. In the office, she took a seat behind the desk and pulled a pen and paper out.

“What are you looking for?” Charlie asked.

“Someone to work out commissions, banking, gallery openings, travel and appearances.” Dean said, glancing down at the pictures that scattered Ellen’s office. Dean could trace his and Sam’s entire lineage here, down to the moment that Ellen and Bobby brought Dean home first, Sam four years later and Jo just the following year. The pictures followed them through their school years: Dean, often covered in paint and grinning. Sam, always with his head in a book. Jo, onstage with a wide grin that would later become her trademark.

Charlie scrawled something out on the paper, worried at her bottom lip, wrote something at the bottom and pushed it to Dean’s side of the desk.

“This is what Lilith was paying you?” He asked, looking at the number at the bottom.

“I gave myself a small raise.” She said. He rolled his eyes, crossed the number out, added another ten grand to it and gave it back.

“Looks like we got ourselves a deal, boss.” She said with a grin. She pulled out her phone. “I’ll be in on Monday at eight?” She said, tapping something out on her phone.

“Make it ten and we’ll talk.” Dean shuddered to think about being up before nine.  

Charlie grinned. “I can do ten.” She picked up the pad and they left the room. Charlie quickly spotted Sam in the living room, his arm casually looped around Ruby’s waist and she pressed close to him.

“Hey, Romeo.” Charlie said. Sam smiled at her and pulled her into a hug.

“All right, that’s enough. You can’t hog all the beautiful women here.” Benny said.

“The hell I can’t.” Sam said, pulling Ruby and Charlie in tighter.

“I actually need you for more official purposes.” Charlie said and handed the legal pad over to Sam. He read through it quickly and efficiently, his eyebrows knitted.

“Dean, you sign.” He said, handing it over to Dean. “Now Charlie, you sign.” Dean passed the pad over to Charlie. “Benny, if you could sign as witness.” Benny obliged with a quick scrawl. Sam looked it over one more time, signed it and dated it.

“First chance you get Charlie, send a copy of that over to me and we’ll be in business.” Sam said. Charlie nodded.

“All right, champ. You are free to go flirt.” Charlie said as she followed his eyes where Castiel apparently asked Jo if he could take one of Bobby’s many guitars off the shelf and play. He sat down and Balthazar looked on for a moment before wandering away. Dean tossed back the rest of his whiskey, handed his cup over to Victor and headed over to Castiel. He looked up as Dean approached him.

“So anyway,” Dean said, as though they were in the middle of a conversation. “Here’s Wonderwall.”

Castiel smirked. “No one over the age of twenty three should be caught dead playing that song.”

“I can certainly agree with that.” Dean said.

Castiel strummed his fingers across the strings and hummed. He plucked a few notes and then frowned.

“I’m Dean.” Dean said, sitting across from Castiel on the fireplace mantle. Ellen would kill him if she saw him. Luckily, she was in France at the moment.

“I know.” Castiel said with a grin. “Famous painter, known to all.”

Dean grinned. “I think you are given to exaggeration.”

“Not at all. I’m Castiel.”

Dean winked. “I know.” He leaned back a bit and took Castiel in from head to toe. “But that’s all I do know.”

Castiel strummed for a minute, closed his eyes and hummed. Then he opened his eyes to find Dean openly staring at him. “Are you hinting you would like to know more?”

“I think I would.”

“I’m a photographer. I take pictures of pretty people half dressed and magazines pay an outrageous amount of money for them.”  Castiel paused and raked Dean from head to toe with his eyes. “Can I take your picture?”

Dean snagged a whiskey from one of the passing waitresses. “Sure. But just the one.”

Castiel paused and smiled. “One is all I would, Dean.”

Dean opened his mouth to try and reply with something witty but all of a sudden, Ruby was there, grabbing his arm and tugging him to his feet.

“Picture time.”

“Oh, come on. Ellen isn’t even here.” Dean whined, letting himself be tugged along. He glanced back at Cas who was smirking his way still. He raised a hand to Dean and returned to his guitar. Dean watched, with some amount of horror, as Benny slid into the seat next to him and Victor took Dean’s spot on the mantle across from him.

“Ruby-” Dean tried to tug away.

“Nope. Picture.” Charlie said, capturing his other arm and tugging him forward.

“You all conspire against me.” Dean muttered casting one last look at Cas who was looking over his own shoulder and smiling.

“That is true.” Ruby said and then shoved him next to Jo and Sam. Jo stood in the middle, her older adopted brothers on either side of her. As was tradition, they took three pictures: one with Jo looking up at Sam and smiling, Sam smiling back down at her, Dean grinning at the camera; Jo looking up at Dean and smiling, Dean smiling back down at her; finally all three grinning at the camera. Ever since Jo had been four years old and Bobby had accidentally taken those three pictures, they were required on each and every one of the children’s birthdays.

The party rolled on but Dean didn’t another chance to speak to Cas. Benny and Victor were supplying him with too many drinks and Charlie and Ruby and Jo kept pulling him onto the dance floor. By the time that he was able to get away for more than five minutes, he noted that it was a little after two and the party had thinned considerably. He walked to the front and asked the young girl taking jackets if she would call him a cab and stumbled back to where Ruby was sitting primly in Sam’s lap. He fell into the seat next to them.

“Ruby. I am going home. The girl at the front has called me a cab. Are you coming with me?”

Ruby frowned at him. “No, I’m going to go home with Sam tonight.”

“You going to be ok, man? We can go back to Ruby’s-”

Dean waved a hand at them. “No, I just wanted to make sure you guys knew I was leaving and not to call me before three in the afternoon tomorrow.” The girl from the front caught his eye and waved him over, his jacket in hand already. “My ride is here. I’ll talk to you guys tomorrow.”   
They waved him off and he dragged himself out to the cab. As it was pulling away he saw Castiel get into another car with the tall wiry blonde one.

“Hm.” Dean said.

Later that night, after stripping his clothes off from the front door to his bed, he wondered about those blue eyes and promised photographs.

~

Dean woke the next morning and wandered around his apartment before finally pulling on a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie and heading down to the diner around the corner. It was close to one in the afternoon when the waitress waved him over to a corner and held a finger to him and he nodded. She finished taking an order over the phone and brought over a pot of coffee.

“Hangover meal?” She asked.

“You’re a saint.” He said nodding. She set down a cup of coffee, extra cream and extra sugar balanced expertly in her other hand.

“Be right up.”

Dean patted his pockets for his phone and frowned when he discovered he had left it at home. He was relieved to find his wallet in his pocket so he could at least pay for his meal. He reached over to an empty table and snatched up a discarded newspaper and as he turned to the sports section, someone slid into the booth across from him.

“The bed head. It’s a good look on you.” Castiel said with an easy smile. He had on a waist coat and slacks.

“Look who’s talking.” Dean said. He felt slightly self conscious.

“It’s what the magazines expect.” Castiel replied easily. “A professional yet slightly disheveled photographer.”

Dean’s waitress made an appearance, “What can I get you, sir?”

Castiel mulled his choices over for a minute. “Whatever Dean is having would be great.”

She nodded, left for a coffee cup and returned with Castiel’s drink. He sipped patiently while studying Dean.

“I was serious, you know.”

“I’m sure you were, but I’m not sure what you are talking about.” Dean countered.

“Taking one picture of you.”

“Oh right. I thought you were just flirting.”

“I was doing that as well.”

Dean grinned into his coffee and the waitress arrived just then with their order. “Well, Castiel. I don’t have any plans for this afternoon. Do you?”

Cas leaned back as the waitress poured more coffee. “I’m free.”

~

They ended up in front of the glass structure that contained the Three Aspects. Castiel was fascinated. He spoke about technique and brushes and colors for a little while until he pulled out a camera from his bag. He held it gently and turned back to Dean.

“Do whatever you normally would if I weren’t here.”

Which sure, is easy to say but almost impossible to do. Dean stood in front of his canvas, ten feet wide by eight feet high. Dean had been using colors on it, nothing in particular in mind. He glanced over at Castiel who stood off to the side and snapped a picture of Dean. He was struck with an idea and turned back to his canvas, deciding to use the negative space created around the picture and began to paint.

There was a lot of black and even more blue.

There were wings.

Four hours later, Dean remembered he had company. He stepped back, and wiped his hand on his torso which he discovered was bare. He was panting and sweating.

Castiel was on the couch, drinking a bottle of water.

“Do you always get lost like that?” He asked.

Dean blinked and looked around for a slow moment before he answered. “Not always. It happens.”

Castiel gestured to the canvas in front of Dean. “It’s beautiful.”

Dean turned back to the canvas and took in the whole. Blue surrounded wings that were white that were surrounded a being painted in shades of blue and tan. “Yeah.” Dean said, letting his hands fall to his sides. “It’s nice.”

“You’ve lost your shirt.” Castiel said, eyes flicking to Dean’s bare torso.

“That, uh, also happens.” Dean said, searching for the shirt and finding it flung over a nearby chair. He reached for it, but Castiel was there tugging it from his hand.

“You don’t have to.” He said stepping closer into Dean’s space. His eyes flicked down to Dean’s chest, his collarbone and then his lips. Finally, Castiel raised his eyes to Dean’s and smiled, slow and sure.

Just as slowly, he leaned forward and pressed his lips to Dean’s. Dean, his breath still shallow and returning to earth from wherever he went when he painted, seized Castiel by the back of the neck and his hip, and pulled him forward roughly. He pulled away for a moment before he leaned down, dropped his paintbrush that was still wet and getting paint all over them, and picked Castiel up so that his legs were wrapped around Dean’s waist. He made the short journey over to his bed, which was underneath the huge windows. The sunlight poured in and made Castiel look more golden than just tan. Dean licked at his throat and panted.

“Is this ok?” He asked, pushing Castiel’s shirt up around his ribcage and dipped his head to kiss there.

“Yes.” Castiel replied, sounding strained.

Dean looked up and caught his eye. “You say you want to stop, we’ll stop.”

“Please, don’t.” Castiel asked gently.

Dean nodded and dipped his head once again, using his tongue to trace words or worship along Castiel’s skin.

~~~

Six months of painting and sex and whispered words and photos passed just like that.

~~~

Kink was almost done. The wings and the negative space and the being in blue and tan was one of Dean’s favorite projects. Castiel had photographed the entire process. Dean was toying with the idea of asking for the prints to be released alongside Kink but hadn’t really thought it through.

Castiel was already in Dean’s apartment, a glass in his hand and an apple in the other. He smiled at Dean but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. He appeared strained.

“Hey.” Dean said softly. “You ok?”

“Yeah. Have a drink with me.” Cas said, gesturing to the glass of amber on the bar.

“Ok.” Dean said, scooping it up and tossing it back in one go and then pouring himself another. He had been with Sam all day, going over his various contracts. Castiel fell back on the bed and Dean came and slung a leg over him and laid his head on his chest. They lay like that, Cas stroking a hand up and down his back.

~~~

Dean woke up tied to a chair. He tried to raise his head to find Cas. He watched, drugged, as Castiel broke down the various security systems that held his Three Aspects in place. Castiel was gentle, thorough and slow. He placed each canvas on a pallet and covered it. The pallets were on a cart that he was able to push and pull easily.

From his chair, Dean laughed.

“I would have given them to you.” He muttered.

Cas didn’t reply but finished quickly. He was sweating by the time he came over to Dean and tilted his head back to look into Dean’s eyes.

Dean spat in his face.

“Leave.” He growled, pulling away from Castiel’s face.

That was the last time Dean saw Castiel.

~~~

Three months later, Dean lit a fire in Sam’s backyard. Kink was in the middle of a garbage pile. Sam stood next to Dean and silently, they watched the painting burn.

****  
  
  


    

****  
  
  
  
  
  
  


   


End file.
